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Zoe
Emma’s mother pulled her car up alongside the sidewalk, and Emma ripped the front door open. “Does Vicky know you took her car?”
“Get in,” the woman said, not answering Emma’s question. “I already called Isabelle’s mother and told her we were coming.”
Emma looked at Jason deferentially and then stepped back. “Do you want the front?”
“Nah.” He started around the back of the car. “Go ahead.” He opened the door.
Still holding onto Isabelle’s sleeve, Zoe opened the other back door. She considered going in first so that she could the one sitting next to Jason, but she thought that was a bit obvious. So, she nudged Isabelle toward the car. “Watch your head,” she said, trying to make a Law & Order joke, but no one laughed.
Isabelle ducked and climbed into the car, where Jason had already settled.
It occurred to Zoe that she did not need to continue on this journey. She could just go home and get some sleep. But she didn’t want to do that. Oddly enough, she was sort of enjoying herself. It wasn’t fun exactly, but she felt happy. Though she couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d had fun, so maybe this was what fun felt like. She shut the door behind her.
“No,” Emma’s mother finally answered. “I was not going to wake a senior saint in the middle of the night to ask if I could borrow her car when she’s made it clear I can borrow it anytime I want.”
Why did they need to borrow Vicky’s car? Did they not have a car of their own? Was Emma like super poor or something? For some reason, this made Zoe like her even more. She didn’t want her first female friend in Carver Harbor to be an eighth grader, but that might be the case.
“Was Mrs. Martin excited to hear from you?” Emma snickered.
“No, and I didn’t even pretend that I wasn’t thrilled to be calling her. I made it clear I was delighted.” She adjusted the rearview mirror so she could look at Isabelle, but Zoe couldn’t tell if Isabelle was looking back. “Young lady, I don’t wish you any harm, but I know you’ve been getting away with mean, cruel, expensive pranks for years, and I’m glad you’ve finally got caught so that you can face some consequences.”
Isabelle let out a low, guttural laugh that sounded more like a snarl. “My parents aren’t going to do anything.”
Emma’s mom looked at her daughter. “You have footage, right?”
Zoe fished out her phone.
“We’ve got two different videos,” Emma said proudly.
Zoe opened her camera and started playing the video. She held it up so Isabelle could see it. Zoe didn’t know if she was looking, of course, but she didn’t think she’d be able to help herself. It bounced around like a pogo stick, but it was still easy to see what she’d filmed: a girl in a pink coat spray painting a church sign. Then, thirty seconds in, the girl turns and looks right at the camera. Clear as day. The great innocent Isabelle Martin.
“Oh wow,” Jason said, sounding smug. “That’s not good.”
“So there’s video evidence,” Emma’s mom said. “If your parents don’t do anything, and I doubt that will be the case, then we will go to the police. You won’t go to jail or anything, but I doubt the police won’t do anything. At the very least, you’ll have to repaint the sign.”
Isabelle groaned. “My parents will just pay for it.”
Was she serious? Were her parents really this ridiculous?
“Good,” Zoe said. “While they’re at it, they can pay for the new basement window.”
Isabelle’s head snapped toward her.
“You’re the one who broke the window?” Emma’s mom said, sounding appalled.
“It was an accident,” Isabelle said weakly.
Sure.
Emma’s mother pulled Vicky’s old car up a long, winding driveway, and a giant house came into view. The whole building was lit up like some kind of government facility. No way. This chick was rich.
“Are your parents criminals too?” Zoe asked.
Isabelle gasped. “No! My dad’s a dentist!”
Zoe almost laughed at the preposterousness of this. Of course. It was the dentist’s kid.
Emma’s mom stopped the car and quickly climbed out. She was certainly excited. More slowly, Zoe got out and then looked back at Isabelle, who hadn’t moved.
“Please don’t do this,” she said in a pathetic voice.
“Pretty sure it’s already done. Come on, get out.”
She still didn’t move.
Jason hadn’t moved either, so she couldn’t escape, but she wasn’t trying to. She wasn’t trying to do anything. She was just sitting there like a frozen popsicle.
Zoe leaned down and forced eye contact. “Have a little pride. Get out of the car and walk to your house.” Zoe knew a little something about getting in trouble. You might as well hold your head up.
Slowly, Isabelle extricated herself from the car, and the front door of her mansion opened.
A woman appeared completely dressed, with good hair and makeup. That was weird. Zoe looked back, and Jason still hadn’t gotten out of the car. That was also weird. Didn’t the glory glutton want to share in the glory?
Emma’s mother greeted Isabelle’s mother, managing to sound civil.
Isabelle’s mother did not return the civility. She came running toward Isabelle, wrapped her arms around her. “Did they hurt you?”
Zoe laughed.
“No one hurt Isabelle,” Emma’s mom said. “Obviously. But we have video of her vandalism, so if you don’t do anything about it, we will take it to the authorities.”
“Don’t forget the fence!” Jason called from the car.
“What?” Emma’s mom said.
Emma turned toward Isabelle’s mom, who was still bear-hugging her thirteen-year-old as if she were some kind of prodigal son. “Oh yeah. Isabelle smashed down a fence at 16 Ingalls Street. We told the owner that you guys would pay for it.”
Isabelle’s mom let go of her with one hand so she could put that hand on her hip. She kept the other arm wrapped protectively around Isabelle’s shoulders. “I am certain that Isabelle did not break anyone’s fence. And we won’t be paying for—”
Isabelle shrugged away from her a little. “Actually, Mom ... I’m sorry.”
Isabelle’s mother stood up straighter. “Get inside,” she said, in a whole new tone of voice. “We will talk about this in private.”
Isabelle obediently headed toward her front door. Her mother spared Emma’s mother another unpleasant glance and then followed her.
“Would you like me to forward the video to you?” she called after her.
Isabelle’s mother didn’t answer.
“I think you still should,” Emma said.
“Oh yeah, I was going to no matter what.” She stood there for another satisfied moment and then looked at Zoe. She clapped her hands together. “All right, who needs a ride home?”
“That would be great,” Zoe said. “Thanks.” She went back to the car, excited to rejoin Jason in the back seat.
“Why didn’t you get out?” she asked quietly, once she’d shut the door.
“Honestly? I’m a little tired.”
He was lying. She didn’t know him that well, but she’d been lied to enough to recognize when it was happening. “No. Really.”
He looked at her sheepishly. “Isabelle’s father is in the running to be the next basketball coach. I forgot the connection until she said her dad was a dentist.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, me too.” He looked out the window. “Me too.”
